The Corner of Fifth and Main
by epiphanies
Summary: I swear on my own grave, don't read this. It's badly written, and in pretty bad taste. I think I was on a wickedbad sugar high when I wrote this. This is the only one of my stories that flames are agreed with and welcome. Read at your own risk!


The Corner of Fifth and Main

  
  


*A little fic about something that I doubt will ever happen, but might if everything else in her life falls apart...enjoy or not, I don't like flamers! Thank you!*

  
  
  
  
  
  


Hey sister, go sister, soul sister, flow sister

Hey sister, go sister, soul sister, go sister

  
  


Hermione sat down on the edge of the sidewalk and thought to herself,

What have I become? What have I done to myself?

She pulled down the short skirt, her bare legs chilly, and pulled out her compact.

She stared at herself in the small mirror.

Who would recognize me now? Who would have known I would come to this...

  
  
  
  


He met Marmalade down in old Moulin Rouge

Strutting her stuff on the street

She said, hello, hey Joe

You wanna give it a go, oh

  
  


Hermione put away the compact and stood up, smiling seductively at the passing cars and strutting sexily down the path.

Work it, Hermi, work it...

She thought to herself as she received the passers looks, some interested, some disgusted.

Hermi.

That's my new name, the name I've had for a year tomorrow. The day I was reborn. A year ago from tomorrow.

What ever happened to sweet, smart, stubborn Hermione?

  
  


Gitchi gitchi ya ya da da (hey hey hey)

Gitchi gitchi ya ya hee (hee oh)

Mocca chocolata ya ya (ooh yeah)

Creole Lady Marmalade (ohh)

  
  


Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir (oh oh)

Voulez-vous coucher avec moi (yeah yeah yeah yeah)

  
  


See, Molly and JoJo have no regrets. They just sleep with a guy, collect the dough and move on. Me, I'm still new to the job. I need more training...

I've really got to get a new top, she thought disgustedly, This one is nearly see-through.

Well, more see-through than it was when you bought it, Hermi...

  
  
  
  


He sat in her boudoir while she freshened up

Boy drank all that magnolia wine

On her black satin sheets

Is where he started to freak, yeah

  
  


Gitchi gitchi ya ya da da (da da yeah)

Gitchi gitchi ya ya hee (ooh yeah yeah)

Mocca chocolata ya ya

Creole Lady Marmalade, uh

  
  


Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir (ce soir)

Voulez-vous coucher avec moi (ooh)

  
  


Oh yes, here one comes....Perfect.

Tall, cute.....

Damn. Married....

  
  
  
  


Yeah, yeah, aw

We come through with the money and the garter belts

Let 'em know we 'bout that cake, straight out the gate

We independent women, some mistake us for whores

I'm saying, why spend mine when I can spend yours

Disagree, well that's you and I'm sorry

I'ma keep playing these cats out like Atari

Wear high heeled shoes, get love from the Jews

Four bad ass chicks from the Moulin Rouge

Hey sisters, soul sisters

Gotta get that dough sisters

We drink wine with diamonds in the glass

By the case, the meaning of expensive taste

We wanna gitchi gitchi ya ya (come on)

Mocca chocolata (what)

Creole Lady Marmalade

(One more time, come on)

  
  


Let's see....who here looks like a regular scumbag.... dammit. Why do I have to work in this cute little town? Why are there no jerks...?

What are you talking about, Hermione!? Her insides shouted at her.

She screamed back at them silently, It's HERMI now, got it? And I don't need you anymore. I don't need anyone...

I don't. I haven't since Ron and Harry both decided to marry off into the Patil family. Not since Neville married Ginny Weasley. Not since Draco Malfoy married Pansy Parkinson....

Well, he wasn't exactly faithful, now was he, Hermi? You know that for a fact....

Well, he was great in bed. No wonder Pansy wanted him.

But after that one time, Draco decided to be faithful again. Just after Hermione had started to actually like him...

Oh well. At least he didn't tell anyone else from Hogwarts what I've been up to these days...Ron and Harry would kill me...

  
  


Marmalade (ooh)

Lady Marmalade (ooh yeah)

Marmalade (ohh)

  
  
  
  


Hey, hey, hey

Touch of her skin feeling silky smooth, oh

Color of cafe au lait, alright

Made the savage beast inside

Roar until he cried

More, more, more

Now he's back home doing nine to five (nine to five)

Living a gray flannel life

But when he turns off to sleep, memories keep

More, more, more

  
  


Ahhh, here we go. Car full of teens.

They stopped, staring at her from head to toe.

"How much, sweet cheeks?" The driver leered at her.

She winked, "That depends. What kinda fun you looking for," she peered in the car, "And in what kind of numbers?"

The teenager went red in the face.

"Well, just a dance. Maybe I can afford a dance..."

"Dance? Baby, you're insulting my art... Well, maybe just this once... hundred bucks. You game?" she smiled with her perfect white teeth.

"Yeah, guys...you got the dough, right Jim?"

"Yeah," said a voice from the backseat.

"You've got yourself a deal, honeybuns. Hop in."

Hermione managed to squeeze her way into the crammed car and smiled at the guy beside her. All she could see was black hair.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hi," he answered.

They soon pulled into an apartment building.

"I'm getting married tomorrow." said the driver, blushing considerably.

Hermione nodded knowingly.

"Meaning, of course, that we have to behave?"

The guys nodded, somewhat disappointed.

"That's ok. Just give me a minute.." she winked again, and headed for the bathroom.

Just then, a door opened and slammed quickly.

"Justin! What's going on?" a familiar voice demanded.

Hermione froze.

She knew that voice.

It was the angry, stubborn voice of the boy that she had fought with endless times in grade school...

Ron.

  
  


Gitchi gitchi ya ya da da

Gitchi gitchi ya ya hee (ohh)

Mocca chocolata ya ya (ooh)

Creole Lady Marmalade

  
  


She opened the door slowly to see a tall man, red hair streaked with grey.

He turned around and his eyes rolled. 

Then he took a double take, and his eyes became the size of saucers.

"Hermione?"

  
  


Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir (ce soir)

Voulez-vous coucher avec moi

Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir (ce soir)

Voulez-vous coucher avec moi (ohh)

  
  


"Ron, um...hi. Look, I can explain..."

Ron didn't take his eyes off hers, but looked as shocked as ever he had before.

"Dad...do you know....?" said the driver questioningly, then started to look at his father with a mixture of respect, fright, disgust and confusion.

"We've....met. Hermione, come with me," Ron turned to his son, "And I'll deal with you later."

Ron grabbed Hermione's hand and dragged her out of the apartment.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"Um...well..." Hermione shifted uncomfortably. 

"Hermione, why didn't you tell us that you had money problems...or contact us to let us know you were at least alive?" Ron demanded, still a look of protruding shock masking his regularly handsome face, "I thought that you were going to train to be an Auror..."

Hermione put her face in her hands.

"Ron...oh god, Ron...my life, it fell apart. Everything fell apart. My parents died, everyone else got married... I had nobody, and no money. I was in a ditch. Then, I came here and met these two girls..."

"Hookers...sleazes...Look at what they've done to you..."

"But it's good money..."

"Hermione..."

"I had nothing to lose. I didn't have the cash to go to school, I didn't have anything. I made the best life I could, with what I had." she motioned to her body, which now, at the age of thirty-three, was still looking young and fresh.

"Look, Herm. I won't tell anybody about this, but will you come with me? Stay with me, at least until I can get you a job?"

"Yeah...yes. Thank you, Ron."

"By the way, I'm single now."

And they walked down the hallway, laughing and joking all the way, just like old times.

  
  


Come on, uh

Moulin

Lady Marmalade

Hey, uh uh uh uh uh uh uh

Rockwilder baby

Lady

Moulin Rouge

Ooh

Misdemeanor here

Creole Lady Marmalade, ooh yeah


End file.
